


Like Riding a Bicycle

by TheRealFailWhale



Category: Alien Series
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 08:23:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18311849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRealFailWhale/pseuds/TheRealFailWhale
Summary: Takes place at the end of "Aliens." Ripley and Hicks have some alone time before going into cryo.





	Like Riding a Bicycle

Ripley watched as Newt slowly fell under the sway of the sleep inducing drugs in the cryo pod. She was intensely relieved to see the little girl safe against the white cushions that would carry her back to civilization. And as much as Ripley wanted to be similarly nestled into her own cryo pod, she couldn’t settle down just yet.

On one hand, she was still understandably shy of cryo-stasis, since she’d woken up from her last cryo to find that everyone she knew and loved was dead. Specifically her daughter. She glanced down at Newt again, remembering how the little girl had called her “mommy.” It had been decades since she’d been called that, and she’d never expected to hear it again.

On the other hand, she was waiting for Hicks to wake up.

Ripley left Newt’s pod after resting a hand against the glass for a moment and went to the small adjoining med bay. Hicks, looking exhausted and beat up, was still sleeping off the pain-killer that Bishop had given him. He could wake up in five minutes or an hour or ten. She might be waiting for a while.

She noticed a thick circle of dried blood on his bicep, something she’d missed before when she’d tried to clean him up. She strode to the small bathroom on the ship that she and Newt had used to clean themselves up, Newt taking the longest since she’d had several months worth of grime covering her. Clad only in an undershirt and underwear, Ripley grabbed a clean washcloth and dampened it in the reclaimed water from the tap. The water supply on this little ship wouldn’t last long; there were cryo pods for a reason. Still, Ripley took the washcloth back over to Hicks and began scrubbing gently at the dried blood she’d spotted.

Once she’d cleaned that little bit, it was hard to stop herself from wiping other stains from his skin. She dabbed carefully around his injuries, clearing away the dirt and blood that had accumulated during their short stint on LV-426. She had to refresh the washcloth a few times, as she became more engrossed in removing the signs of battle from him. She was trying to clean the parts of his skin she could see, but as she cleaned around the edges of his undershirt, she realized that if she wanted to do a proper job, she’d have to take it off.

Fully aware that she was taking her self-assigned cleaning further than was necessary, Ripley carefully pulled off Hick’s undershirt. She was too inured to men’s bodies to become distracted by his rather admirable abs, but she couldn’t stop herself from feeling the lines of his muscle through the cloth. When she’d rinsed out the rag and dampened it again, it left light trails of moisture on his skin. As these evaporated, goose pumps prickled across his stomach, raising the little hairs that were there.

It had been a very, very long time since Ripley had had the chance to be intimate with anyone. With everything she’d gone through, it had barely even registered in her mind since the _Nostromo_. However, there had been a few moments on this mission where she’d been aroused by Hicks. When he’d shown her how to use his weapon, for example.

Ripley was a little too old to be embarrassed about such an arousal, but she shifted in her seat, flicking a glance at Hick’s face.

He was watching her.

“Hey there,” she said softly, smiling slightly. “Glad to see you’re awake.”

“Uh-huh,” he grunted, moving to prop himself up and then stopping when he realized his arm was still bound. “Where’s Bishop?” he asked, looking around the tiny med bay.

“He didn’t make it,” Ripley answered quietly. “Here—.” She leaned over him and grabbed a pillow that was in the cubby beside his bunk. She heard him sniff as she got close to him and glancing down saw his abdomen clench. Without commenting on his sudden discomfiture, she used the pillow to raise his head off the bed.

“What happened to my shirt?”

Ripley gestured with the rag she was still holding. Despite her repeated rinsing, it was still quite filthy.

“I did my best to clean you up a bit. There’s a shower you can use when you’re up to it.”

“That explains the smell…” he muttered, leaning back on the pillow she’d fetched for him.

She cocked her head questioningly, and he brought his light eyes to hers.

“You smell clean,” he explained in a gentle tone. “Didn’t make sense for someone who’d just been in an explosion.” He dropped his eyes from hers and finally seemed to notice that she wasn’t wearing pants, based on his sudden red cheeks. “Oh,” was all he said before quickly redirecting his gaze.

Ripley chuckled and set down the cloth. Leaning back in her chair she said, “You weren’t this thrown when we woke up from cryo two days ago. I seem to recall we were both in our underwear.”

“Yeah,” Hicks replied drily. “And it was just as distracting then as it is now.”

Against her will, Ripley’s heart rate increased. She ran a hand through her curls and then leaned forward to rest her elbows on her knees, more or less concealing her bare legs.

“I didn’t realize I was such a threat to your composure,” she said casually, trying not reveal that his words had affected her.

Hicks snorted. “That doesn’t surprise me. You don’t seem the type to notice much about men.”

Slightly affronted, Ripley said, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He finally looked at her again, and once more Ripley was taken aback at how bright his eyes were. Most people had dark eyes. “You and Vasquez had a lot in common,” he began. She noticed his fist clench in suppressed emotion. “Both badasses, both prepared to lay down the law regardless of who you’re talking to. Hell, I’m surprised Gorman even let you tag along.”

“Are you scared of strong women?” she asked calmly, holding his gaze and feeling her chin jut out slightly.

Hicks actually laughed at that. “Of course I’m scared. Just like I’d be scared of a man who went around being a competent badass. And a damn good leader, too,” he added, giving her a nod of respect.

Ripley felt a ripple of disappointment run through her at his words. This wasn’t how she’d imagined their conversation going.

“That said,” he went on in a quieter voice. “I doubt I’d be as attracted to you if you were a man.”

She raised her head to look at him. His light eyes were burning with a heat that suggested Ripley’s moments of arousal hadn’t been for her alone.

Mindful of his injured arm, Ripley leaned over and kissed him.

Decades it had been, counting her cryo time, but even before the _Nostromo_ she hadn’t kissed anyone since she’d left her husband on earth. Still, she didn’t remember kissing like this.

Hicks’ tongue seemed to want to claim hers, so she let him, opening her lips to let his dance with hers. As his arms reached for her, she swung herself onto the bunk, bringing her mouth down onto his from her new vantage point. She felt his good hand running up her back and back down, only to slip under her shirt. She groaned with pleasure to feel his hand on her skin, a contact she hadn’t had in far too long.

His hand explored beneath her shirt, crossing her abdomen and slowly rising to her breasts, free from restraint for cryo-stasis. She felt his cock grow against her thighs as he cupped her breast, thumb running across the nipple as it quickly hardened against the feather touch. All the while they kissed, Ripley taking what his mouth was freely giving.

For a moment, their lips separated, both of them gasping for breath. Hicks’ pupils were dilated with desire as he brought his hand out and up to sweep her hair from her face.

“You’re gorgeous, do you know that?” he asked, voice ragged.

In response, Ripley covered his mouth with her own again, this time pressing her tongue forward. Hicks moaned and she felt a twitch from his cock, which felt as though it were trying to burst out of his pants.

Ripley pulled back and met Hicks’ eyes again as she passed a hand down his bare stomach. His response was a faint growl and he began pulling at her shirt, his aim to get it off her.

She quickly aided him and he pulled her face to his once more as her hands dealt with the buckles of his pants between her thighs. Once open, she pushed them down and pulled his cock free, squeezing it with one hand while the other pushed aside her panties and felt her cunt. Hicks groaned his pleasure into her mouth and brought his forehead to hers, no longer having the breath to kiss her.

It was like riding a bicycle. Ripley moved herself over his cock and began to move down on it, bringing the tip to her wet lips and then up again, repeating the motion until her folds had moved aside enough to give him entry.

They both moaned as his cock slid into her, Ripley experiencing a fullness for the first time in years. Their foreheads were still together, and as they sat unmoving with him inside her they shared breaths.

“You’re so fucking amazing,” whispered Hicks. Ripley opened her eyes and saw him staring into them. His eyes shone with the truth of his feelings, and Ripley couldn’t help but smile.

She began moving again, watching as Hicks’ eyes closed in pure pleasure, his mouth falling open. Up and down, bringing the fullness of his cock ever deeper into her. Hicks clutched her hip with his good hand and used it to bring his own hips up, slamming into her as she slammed down onto him. She cried out before gritting her teeth, determined to feel every part of this moment. She listened to his rhythmic panting, his grunts of effort to fill her to the womb. She sat up, grasping his bicep in one hand and bringing the other down to stimulate her clit, which had been her only way to release since _Nostromo_.

“I—got—you—,” Hicks grunted out, bringing his injured arm down toward their joined crotches. With the way his sling angled his arm, his hands were indeed at just the right slant to allow his thumb to frig her clit as they moved.

With this added sensation, Ripley knew it wouldn’t be long before she came.

“Alm—ost,” she gasped, just as she started to feel his cock throb harder within her, meaning he wasn’t far behind.

“I got you!” he exclaimed hoarsely, frigging her faster.

It did the trick. With an almost bellowing gasp, Ripley came, back arching to pull her breasts upward as her muscles clenched around him. From his own shuddering gasps, she knew he came as well.

As the wave of her orgasm crashed over her, she leaned forward, bringing her hands to either side of Hicks’ head and her forehead to his once again, unintentionally bumping into him as her body convulsed in pleasure. She realized that Hicks’ hand on her hip was digging into her skin with the strength of his grip on her.

For several minutes they lay together, his cock sliding from her as it softened. Gradually, her breathing slowing, Ripley’s body lowered itself to Hicks’, her breasts coming to rest against his chest.

“Well,” Hicks finally panted, voice strained from gasping. “That’s one way to celebrate victory.”

Ripley couldn’t help it. She laughed. It bubbled out of her like an escape gas, until she was shaking his body with it.

“Glad I can amuse you,” he said, a grin in his voice. She pulled back her head to look into his face, which was indeed grinning.

Responding with one of her own, she replied, “I hope you intend to keep amusing me, corporal.”

“I told you it’s Dwayne, y’know,” he answered, pushing back her curls again. “But I do intend to, sarge.”

**Author's Note:**

> Except then Hicks dies, so not quite.
> 
> I always loved Ripley & Hicks and wanted to see them get together, so boom, they did. I took some liberties with the ship they escaped in because I didn't want to write them having sex in a room while Newt was in cryo. That's just creepy.


End file.
